The Deception
by adromir
Summary: Sequel to 'The Lie'. Sam is once more abducted. However, not everything is as what it seems.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everybody! Did you guys enjoy the first episode of the new season of Flashpoint last night? It's awesome, right? That was a great start to a great last season, I'm sure. Can't wait for the next coming episodes.  
**

**Okay, back to fanfic. As I've promised before, here's the sequel to 'The Lie'. This particular story is a bit complicated for me to write, so please bear with me along the way. To those who enjoys Sam's whump, you might like this one (I hope ^_^). Anyway, happy reading!  
**

**Summary : Sequel to The Lie. Sam is once more abducted. However, not everything is as what it seems.**

* * *

"Hey, Sam. Wait up."

"Leave me alone, Jules," Sam replied without even a break in his stride. He had just emerged from the men's locker room with a gym bag carelessly slung over one shoulder.

"What do you mean, leave you alone?" Jules stubbornly persisted, dogging his every step.

"That's exactly what it means. I need to be alone. Is that so hard to understand?" he snapped at her.

She was taken aback. "Why?"

"I need some space, okay? Do I need any reasons for that?"

"No. I mean, why this sudden strange mood? Why are you being so cranky?"

"I'm not cranky. It's just…" Sam stopped and rounded on her, pursing his lips with clear irritation on his face. "It's nothing. Stay away, Jules. Just leave me be."

"I won't leave you be. Something is obviously wrong and I need to know."

"Nothing is wrong." Shaking his head, he whirled around to resume walking.

She reached out for him. "Sam…"

"Stay away, Jules! Stop being such a bitch." With that parting shot, he left her standing there with her mouth hanging open.

Almost instantly, the rest of Team One hurried over to gather around their female teammate.

"Jules, what the hell's going on?" Parker was quick to ask, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"You guys fighting?" Spike asked next. "We could hear the shouting from the locker room."

Still stunned, she shook her head. "I don't know. _Are_ we fighting?"

Raf frowned. "What did you say to him?"

"I told him to wait up, and I asked him what's wrong." She shrugged, looking more than slightly hurt. "I don't know what pisses him off. He wouldn't tell me."

"Sam has been strangely quiet the whole day, hasn't he?" Parker remarked. "That's not like him at all."

Ed narrowed his eyes, not looking real pleased. "I'll go and talk to him."

"No, Ed. That's okay," Jules said with a sad smile. "Let's just wait until he cools down."

"I'm not gonna wait until he cools down," Ed retorted. "We all heard what he said to you just now. That was totally uncalled for."

"He just wants to be left alone, so let's leave him alone. Ed?"

But Team One's team leader was already moving. He walked with fast determined strides down the hallway towards the HQ exit and headed straight for the parking lot. He found Sam already at his car.

"Hey, Braddock," Ed called out. "What's the big deal back there?"

Sam turned. Upon seeing Ed, he rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Oh, please. Not you too. Why can't you guys just leave me alone? Is that too much to ask?"

Barely able to contain his rage, Ed moved closer until he and Sam were standing chest to chest. "Sure, we all will leave you alone if that's what you really want. But you don't have to act like a mean bastard about it. Especially to Jules."

For a split second, Ed noticed a glimmer of remorse in the younger man's blue eyes. But it was very brief, gone almost as sudden as it appeared.

"Yeah, whatever," Sam nonchalantly replied with an easy shrug, turning to dump his gym bag into his SUV.

Ed grabbed him by the arm. "Braddock, I'm not finished—"

The move was so lightning fast that Ed didn't know he went flying until he hit the ground. As he lay there wheezing for breath, Ed looked up at his teammate with deep chagrin when he realized what just happened. Sam had effortlessly thrown him down, judo style.

"Keeps your hands off me, Ed," Sam grimly said. "And stay away."

He looked up as Jules and the men came approaching. Softly, he added, "Tell her to stay away too. I mean it."

Blinking, Ed slowly pulled himself upright and watched as Sam got behind the wheel. "Sam, buddy, what's going on? Can't you at least talk to me?"

"There's nothing to talk about."

"If you're in trouble, if you need any help…"

Sam scoffed without humor. "I'm not your little brother, Ed. Just leave me alone."

Slamming the door shut, he then switched on the engine and stepped on the gas, leaving a strip of black rubber in his wake. His car had already cleared the main gate when the rest of the team finally reached Ed's side at a run.

"Ed, you're okay? Are you hurt?" They assisted the team leader to his feet, even though he was fully capable doing so on his own power.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Just suffering from a bruised pride," Ed replied, brushing dirt off his jacket. "I shouldn't have yanked at him like that. That teaches me not to mess with an ex-Special Forces."

"What in the world is wrong with him?" Spike wondered out loud. "He's not himself at all. Has Samtastic suddenly turned lunatic?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Parker ruefully said with a meaningful look at Jules. "Has Sam been acting strange lately?"

She was a bit sad when she replied, "I'm not sure, Boss. Mostly he seems fine to me. I notice that he has been quite subdued following his abduction, sometimes even short-tempered, but this is the first time that he really lost it. Maybe he's not ready to be on full duty yet."

The rest of the team nodded, for they understood what she meant. They could never forget those awful things that had happened to Sam just three weeks ago.

Sam was with his father on their way back to Ottawa to see his ailing mother when their cavalcade suddenly came under attack by a group of armed and dangerous men. General Braddock was wounded, while his son had been taken away into an abandoned building outside of town. There, those men had tortured Sam for hours to get the information about a missing nuclear warhead, but not before he found out that Matt Walsh, his best friend whom he had accidently shot dead in Kandahar, was still alive and actually sharing the holding cell with him. He also found out that it was his own father, the General, who had been the mastermind behind the staging of Matt's death. And then, on the very same night that Matt had returned into his life, Sam's best friend truly died for shielding him against a hail of bullets.

After he was rescued, Sam had spent over a week on sick leave to recuperate, body and mind. He had been back on duty for several days now, after he had assured everyone that he was perfectly fine and in good shape to kick butts. He appeared so on the surface, a real tough guy all around. But even Superman had a breaking point. Sooner or later, something would cause Sam to snap.

And that was what Team One feared most, that Sam had finally snapped.

"You think he'll be alright by himself?" Spike asked, the concerned for his mate clearly etched on his pleasant features.

"Yeah, he'll be fine," Parker responded. "I think it's as what he said, he just wants to be left alone. So we shall give him some space."

"And tomorrow, after he has calmed down and returns to shift, we can all give him hell," Raf suggested.

"Not before I give him hell first," Jules hotly remarked. She still looked a tad pale, but at least she had recovered from her shock. She and Sam constantly bickered, as it made their relationship more exciting, but their fighting never crossed the line. And yet tonight, his unexpected behavior seriously scared her. Sam had never been so harsh to her before, had never been so cruel.

"Jules." Spike's voice interrupted her musings.

"Yeah?"

"You need a ride?" the team's tech expert was saying. "You both drove in together this morning, right?"

"Oh, yes. Sure, Spike. I could use a ride. Thanks."

"Good, let's go." Draping an arm around her shoulders, Spike ushered her towards his car a hundred yards away with Raf following close behind. "We'll drive to your house before I drop Raf at his club."

"You've got a gig tonight, Raf?"

"Just a short one, maybe for a few numbers," Raf replied. "Hey, wanna stay and see me perform?"

"Oh, I don't know..."

"Come on, Jules. It'll be fun. We get to unwind."

Parker and Ed didn't catch her response to that when those three moved further away. Turning to the Sergeant, Ed said, "Sam is hiding something."

Parker resisted the urge to roll his eyes heavenward. "Like father, like son. Okay, what do you think he is up to now?"

"I have no idea, Boss. But Sam is really persistent that everyone stays the hell away from him."

"And he gets his wishes."

"Exactly."

Frowning, Parker grew thoughtful. "You think he's in trouble?"

"I asked him that but he instantly clams up, not giving me anything." Shaking his head, Ed crossed his arms with a sigh. "The Sam I know would never hurt Jules, or even me. Then why is he acting this way?"

"He's not an emotionless robot, Ed. What Sam went through the last few weeks would drive a normal man to madness. Maybe he just…well, snaps."

"We can't let this go on."

"No, we won't. I'll talk to him tomorrow. If he's really not fit for duty yet, and that his judgment has been affected, I will suggest that he takes a long leave of absence."

"He's not gonna be happy."

"He's not happy now."

Ed gave the Sergeant a pointed look. "We need him, Greg."

"I know, Eddie. I know."

As the two SRU officers continued to commiserate about a teammate gone maverick, the man being discussed was driving through town at a steady pace about ten kilometers away. Sam reached across to grab a cellphone from inside the dashboard. It was a safe phone, highly untraceable, which connected only to one number. He hit speed dial and waited for the call to get through.

"Hey, it's me," he said when the call was picked up.

"So how did it go?" asked the man on the other line.

"It went well. Too well, I'm afraid."

"Never mind," the other man calmly said. "It's time to focus. Any minute now."

"Yes, I'm aware of that. I'm almost home."

"Are you ready?"

"As ready as can be."

After several heartbeats of silence, the other man said in a quiet voice, "Good luck, son."

"Thanks, Dad. I won't let you down."

"I know. I have complete faith in you, Sammy."

Ringing off, Sam shoved the phone back into the dashboard and pressed down the accelerator. Minutes afterwards, he arrived at his apartment complex. He then took the elevator to reach his floor. Taking his time unlocking the door, he looked to the left and right. The hallway was clear.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Dumping his gym bag on the couch, he peeled off his leather jacket and walked to the fridge. He grabbed a can of cold beer and took several gulps. Through the corner of his eye, he saw slight movement to his left.

He moved.

Spinning on the balls of his feet, Sam pitched the beer can with all his might, hitting the sneaking man smack in the forehead. The man stumbled back, but two more men emerged from their hiding spaces behind the kitchen counter and the bedroom. Instead of running for the door to escape, Sam rushed towards them with flying scissoring kicks. Both men staggered from the blow to their heads.

The first man returned to attack with a gun in his hand. Side stepping, Sam leaned forward and grabbed his assailant's elbow, giving it a vicious twist until the man dropped the weapon. Sam kicked hard at the back of the man's knee, shoving him to the floor.

Behind him, the two men were coming at him again. Sam crouched lower and swiped his legs against their feet to tumble them off. But like him, they were highly trained. They easily leapt before advancing once more. With a swift roll over his head towards the kitchen, Sam yanked a knife out of the block. Wielding it as weapon, he put up a stance and watched as the three men warily approached him.

"Someone's going to get badly hurt tonight," he said with a mocking smile.

One of the men also grinned. "Yeah. _You_."

They simultaneously rushed him. Sam swung the knife at the nearest assailant, cutting a long line down the man's chest, causing him to yelp and step back. Whirling around, Sam went for the other guy. The man ducked under the knife to tackle Sam around the waist. They both went down. The knife went skittering out of Sam's grip.

Growling with anger, Sam yanked up his knees and kicked the man in the sternum. The man wouldn't budge, for he was more muscular and heavier than Sam. With a harsh cry, Sam slammed both heels of his palms against his assailant's ears. The man dropped away, howling.

The fight was far from over. The third guy had come from behind, wrapping an arm around Sam's neck, holding him immobilize. Sam realized he had only seconds before the choke hold would render him unconscious. Writhing with pain, he reached up and used his fingers to jab into the man's eyes.

The man screamed. Sam followed with quick double elbow jabs and scrambled away from the man's flagging grip. Coughing from the sudden rush of air into his throat, Sam crouched and got ready to leap at the other two guys. Before he could do so however, the door suddenly swung open and a fourth person appeared. This newcomer was a tall man wearing an overcoat over an immaculate suit. He was young, about Sam's age. He was also holding a gun, aiming straight at Sam.

"You're coming with us," the distinguished man said.

Sam bared his teeth and barked, "Never!"

The man squeezed the trigger. A dart flew off to hit Sam in the neck. Staggering, he reached up with a trembling hand to yank out the dart. Sam's vision was quickly growing bleary, yet he could still recognize what the dart was intended for.

"Drugged…"

Sam was already unconscious even before he crumpled onto the floor.

* * *

A couple of hours had passed when Sam slowly came around.

Just like when he was abducted three weeks ago, he found himself strapped to a chair in a dimly lit room. Only the difference was, he was alone this time. There was no Matt to come back from the dead to share his captivity. His best friend was well and truly gone.

Groaning from the nauseating aftereffects of the drug, Sam looked down at himself. He had been stripped naked, leaving him completely in the bare. The air felt cold against his exposed skin. His wrists were lashed together behind his back, while his ankles were tied to each chair leg. He realized that it would be a futile attempt to free himself from the efficient restraints, so he conserved his energy and just sat still. He waited.

It was not a long wait, as if his captors already expected him to wake up. The man who had shot Sam entered the room, no longer wearing his overcoat. Two of his men also followed, one of them carrying a laptop. The other one was carrying a role of clothes line.

Clearing his throat, the man took a seat in a chair facing Sam. At his slight nod, his man placed the opened laptop onto the table next to him.

As the man was about to speak, Sam beat him to it, "Who are you?"

The man smiled. "Beaten, bound and naked, and yet you still want to get acquainted? I'm impressed."

"I must know the person I'm going to kill."

"_You_ kill _me_? You do realize I'm not the one being captive here, do you?" His grey eyes twinkling with mirth, the man put out his hand as if offering for a shake. "I'm Ross, at your service, Master Corporal Braddock. Oops, sorry, I forgot that you're all tied up. My bad."

Without turning a hair, Sam sent him a gimlet stare. "What do you want from me?"

"Oh, I think you knew what we want from you." Reaching for the laptop, Ross turned it around until Sam could have a clear look. A jumble of digital sequences appeared on the background of the screen, with a command instruction box placed smack dab in the middle. The command was asking for passcodes.

"You know what this is?" Ross asked him.

Sam swallowed. Of course, he knew what it was. The last time he saw it, he was sitting at his father's office in the nation's military HQ in Ottawa. The digital sequences were the coordinates and activation codes for a missing nuclear warhead that Matt had managed to pass to Sam in a form of a tiny microchip before he got killed. In order to protect millions of lives, Matt had died hiding the damning material. And now Sam found out that it had finally fallen into the wrong hands.

"I asked you, do you know what this is?" Ross started to lose his smile.

Putting up an innocent air, Sam replied, "The screensaver from 'The Matrix' movie?"

With a slight signal from Ross, the man with the rope stepped behind Sam. He loped the cord around Sam's neck and pulled tight. Sam could hardly breathe. After two minutes, the man slackened the rope so that air could rush into Sam's lungs once again.

"Let's try this one more time," said Ross, still looking calm. "Do you know what this is?"

Wearily, Sam nodded. "Yes. You knew I do."

"Good. Why was that so hard to admit then?"

"How did you get it?"

Ross shrugged. "I have my sources."

"A traitor among us, you mean."

"Nope, merely an opportunist." The man just grinned. "But here's a snag. We have the information, but everything is encrypted. We found out only you know the passcodes, as you were the one who set it up together with that tech genius from your father's secret team…um…what do they call that guy?"

"Brainy Brian."

"Ah, yes. Brainy Brian. We thought we could grab him and make him spill the beans but his location is currently classified. Must be sitting somewhere in a foreign soil in another black op, I guess. But you, _you_ are easy picking. You run all over the city, playing cop, without a care to anything, carrying the deadly info in your head. You're too cocky for your own good, Sammy."

"Don't call me that," Sam said, gritting his teeth.

"Why? Because only your family and friends can call you that way? Aw, what's wrong, Sammy boy? Feel like pissing in your pants now? Oh, wait. You're not wearing any pants."

Ross and his men laughed as Sam's face reddened with humiliation.

As their laughter died down, Ross' expression grew serious as he said next, "What's the passcodes, Braddock? Tell us now, and we will give you a swift and merciless death."

"Go throw yourself under a bus."

Frowning, Ross gave his man another signal. The rope tightened around Sam's neck once more.

Minutes passed. Black spots started to appear in Sam's vision but he held on though it was extremely unbearable. After what seemed like hours, the rope loosened and Sam desperately gasped for air.

"Tell me the passcodes."

"Kiss my ass first."

And the process continued on with Sam still refusing to give out the secret, no matter how excruciating the pain was. After the fourth attempt, which was the longest time they held the rope against his throat, Sam was completely drained of all energy. He had been convulsing and shuddering as if in a fit when his air was being cut off. And now he slowly felt himself growing faint.

Someone slapped him in the face, yanking him back to awareness.

"Don't you dare sleep on me, Braddock!" Ross shouted, already standing. "Answer my question. Then I'll let you sleep forever."

"I have nothing…to say…to you." Sam heard the weakness in his voice as he said this. He knew he wouldn't last much longer, and yet he still prevailed. "Go…to hell."

With an annoyed grunt, Ross grabbed the laptop and strode out of the room after nudging one of his men to follow him. Sam went in and out of consciousness, so it felt like a very short while later when Ross and his man returned, hefting a tall basin of water between them.

"Know what, Braddock? It's you who's going to hell," Ross said, putting down the heavy basin. Turning to his men, he ordered, "Do it."

The two strong men lifted Sam off the floor, chair and all. The tilted him upside down and dunked his head underwater.

Panicked, Sam jerked and trashed repeatedly as he struggled for release. Unfortunately, he was no match against his bonds and his captors. These men were trying to drown him, he realized with absolute horror. Within minutes, Sam's movement grew less and less frantic until he stopped moving altogether.

Operation Virus had officially begun.

**TBC...**

* * *

**Yikes. What have I done here? Oh, no no. Don't kill me yet. You wanna know what happens next right? **

**Uh... right?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for still reading this stroy. Here's a new chapter. **

**But I'm warning you, there are HEAVY Sam whumps featured in this one. I mean, real brutal. So if you're not into that kind of stuff, please DO NOT READ. Skip this and wait for the next chapter. Consider yourself WARNED.**

* * *

They drowned him a couple more times afterwards, before they revived him yet again to be interrogated. His answer was always the same. Piss of. Up yours. Take a hike.

Translation, no passcodes.

Ross was now in shirtsleeves after shedding his suit jacket hours ago. He and his men had been torturing Sam all through the night with no positive result. The ex-JTF2 was either too tough or too stubborn or too plain stupid.

Maybe all off the above.

Rubbing a tired hand down his weary face, Ross stared in frustration at the captive sitting slump in the chair. He thought hard on other effective means to force the passcodes out of Sam's mouth. Ross couldn't rest until then, as time was running short. His handler had given him a deadline. They all must leave the country with the passcodes before the 1200 hours, or they would be too late to make their getaway.

Sam was shaking so bad from the cold and fatigue, but he never uttered any complaints. The only sign to his distress and pain was the occasional groans that he could barely contain. His body had already reached the limit of its endurance. Who knew how much further his physique could last the brutal abuses. He needed to time this right. Too early, and these men would not buy it. But if he held on overly too long, he would succumb to his own death. Then all his sufferings would be for nothing.

At a snap of his fingers, Ross gathered with his men in a corner to discuss the situation under low voices. There was a brief argument which Ross quickly cut down with several sharp words. As one of them rushed out of the room, Ross came to stand in front of their captive.

Sam gave him a lopsided smile. "What's wrong? Ran out of ideas?"

Ross returned the smile. "Oh, we're just getting started."

"Cool. I begin to enjoy the hospitality," Sam responded through chattering teeth.

"I'm glad you approve."

When his man came back into the room with some items, Ross' expression instantly turned grim. "So. Shall we try again?"

Sam watched warily as Ross held up a cellophane tape, saying, "Such a harmless item. And yet it can be very useful in your case."

The other two men grabbed Sam's face and pulled his eyelids apart. Grinning, Ross came closer and used four strips to tape Sam's eyelids down. After he finished, Sam's eyes stayed wide open. He couldn't even blink. Almost instantly, his eyes began to dry up. The discomfort was so awful that Sam nearly cried uncle there and then. But he stubbornly held on.

_A little bit more, Sam. Just a little bit more._

"That's it? That's your smart plan? By giving me a face lift?" Sam attempted to joke.

"You might think this funny now," said Ross with growing impatience. "Let's see how you feel in another hour when your eyeballs shrivel up and die. Then you're gonna talk."

"Don't count on it, you bastard!" Sam shot back. "You're just the minion. An underling. I don't talk to minions. Do whatever you want but you will get _nothing_ from me. I swear on this."

Ross reached over to wrap his hand around Sam's throat. "I will make you talk."

"I'd rather die first."

"I will make your death a slow excruciating one."

"You can't afford to kill me slowly." Sam smirked back. "You're out of time."

With a slight narrowing of his eyes, Ross yelled and punched Sam in the jaw. He then raised one foot and pressed it firmly against Sam's unprotected groin.

Writhing with agony, Sam couldn't help but audibly moaned. His arms and legs jerked in reflex to protect his abused private parts, but he was held fast by the bonds. Ross pressed harder until Sam began to scream.

"The passcodes, Braddock!" Ross shouted.

"Fuck you!" Sam shouted back, already gone into spasm in his seat.

When his captive still refused to reveal what he wanted to hear, Ross yanked back his foot with a cry of frustration. He turned to his men.

"Sleep deprivation," Ross yelled at them and stormed out of the room.

One man came forward with a headphone. He jammed it around Sam's head and cranked up the volume as high as it would go. Horrible thrash metal song blasted into Sam's eardrums, making him think that his brain was about to explode.

Their job done, the two men walked out of the room, leaving Sam to his absolute misery.

* * *

"Operation _Virus_? What the hell is Operation Virus?" Ed yelled as he glared at the military man who stood in the SRU's briefing room the next morning.

General Braddock met Ed Lane's gaze without any sign of wavering and calmly replied, "Operation Virus is what we call a black op where our asset allows himself to be abducted by the enemy and tortured for classified information."

The room went eerily silent as entire Team One stared in great disbelief at Sam's father.

"You've got to be kidding," Spike finally muttered, still in shock. "Sir, tell me you're joking."

"It's not a joke, Mr. Scarlatti," Braddock senior replied, his head shaking. "Sam is carrying out a mission for me, as he has done several times before."

Close to tears, Jules sat unmoving with a hand covering her mouth. Raf reached over and squeezed her hand, showing her his support.

"Let me get this straight," Parker said, stepping forward with his arms akimbo. "Your son is now in the hands of a group of hostiles, being tortured, while we all sit here and do nothing about it?"

General Braddock looked grim. "We wait."

"Wait for what?" Ed exploded, his face turning red with anger. "You already know where they hold him, don't you? You can trace Sam's whereabouts from the tracking chip you planted in his back."

"Yeah, I know exactly where Sam is," Braddock retorted. "But we must not interfere until the time is right!"

"What are you saying? What timing?" Jules demanded to know as she leapt to her feet and advanced on the General. "Don't you have any care for your son's safety?"

Braddock's gaze softened towards Jules. "Sam knows what he's doing. He realizes what's at stake and he's ready for anything."

"You're sure about that?" Parker said with barely control rage. "Sam is out there risking himself without our clearance. He has no backup. He is being tortured and god knows what else. He would die if we do not go in now and rescue him!"

"We will not do any such thing! Not yet. We must wait for the signal."

"What signal? Why is that so important?"

With a weary sigh, the General turned to take a seat. He stared at his hands clasped atop the table before he spoke, "Look, I came here not to argue with anyone. I'm here to tell you not to worry about Sam, and not to take actions into your own hands. If you don't do as I say, then Sam _will_ die."

Parker and the rest exchanged doubtful looks, still not reassured by the General's words.

Team One had been worried sick when Sam never appeared for that day's shift. He had not answered his phone, and he had failed to return calls. Imagine the team's surprise when Sam's father suddenly appeared unannounced with his entourage at the Barn earlier that morning and demanded to have a closed audience with Team One. As military personnel stood guard outside the closed doors, the team had locked themselves inside the briefing room to receive the bombshell from the General.

Ed dragged a chair and sat next to the older man. "I can't believe you're saying all this. You sacrifice your own son for a damn mission? What kind of a father are you?"

Braddock snapped a ferocious glare Ed's way. "Don't even go there, Lane. You don't know me. You don't even know my son, not like you thought you do. You have no idea what he's capable of."

"Okay, okay. Let's take it easy here. We're all on the same side, remember?" said Parker, ever the peacekeeper. He also sat down. "General, please bear with us. Start at the beginning. What's this all about?"

Braddock took a few moments to consider and said, "It's about the codes to the missing nuclear warhead, the codes that Matt passed to Sam. The hostiles now have them."

They all gasped out loud, while Ed exploded once again, "_WHAT_?!"

"Oh my God…" Jules muttered, turning as pale as white sheet.

"How could that be?" Spike asked. "I thought Sam has handed over the codes to you for safekeeping."

"We let the hostiles take them."

"You _let_ them?" Parker didn't know whether to laugh or to cry on this. "No offense but…are you nuts?"

"I understand your reactions, but we have reasons for doing this. We use the codes as bait," Braddock explained.

"Bait?" Raf wondered out loud.

"Yes, to catch a fish. A very big fish. Remember I told you before, about the traitor who sold out Matt until he was flushed into the open with the codes and got himself killed?"

"Haven't you caught the traitor right after Sam was rescued three weeks ago?"

"We decided not to take action on him yet. We let him feel secure, unsuspected. We then entrusted him with the codes, the ones that my team have encrypted which only Sam can access. We want this man to lead us to his handler, the real man behind all this mess."

"You let it be known to all that Sam is the key to access the codes," was Ed's incredulous remark.

"We did it discreetly."

"So they would come for Sam and drag him into their midst."

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, but I don't get it," said Raf. "How is that going to improve things?"

Parker had gone thoughtful before he remarked, "Sam is the Trojan horse."

"Exactly." Braddock agreed. "Sam will not let himself be tortured for nothing. He is there to gather intel. He is also there to deceive the hostiles and make them expose themselves without them even knowing it."

"A virus." Ed nodded as he finally got the whole picture. "Sam plants himself to be the cause of their own downfall."

The General looked directly at him. "You understand now."

"Yeah, I do. But that doesn't mean I like it."

With a sad smile, Sam's father said, "Then you can imagine how I feel, because I don't like it either. Not one bit. But it has to be done. If sacrificing my own son means saving the life of millions, then so be it."

Ed swallowed hard as he noticed the glimmer of pain in the elder man's eyes. He realized then that the General was terribly worried about his son, and was trying hard to hide it by putting up a brave front.

Reaching over, Ed squeezed the man's arm. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm just glad that you still have concerns for Sam, even after the atrocious way he behaved yesterday."

"So all the strange moods, the short temper, that was just an act?"

"Yes, Jules. He wants everyone in his team, especially you, to stay out of harm's way. He doesn't want any of you to get caught in the crossfire."

"I _knew_ it. I knew something was off." Jules narrowed her eyes. "Ooh, I'm gonna kill him."

They all broke into soft laughter, and it eased the dismal mood somewhat.

Parker then brought everyone back to business. "So, General, how much longer do we need to wait?"

"Like I said, we won't do a thing before Sam gives his signal. We cannot tip our hands until we find out the handler's true identity."

"How is Sam going to send us the signal?"

"We have our ways. And Sam will send _me_ the signal. Me and _my_ team will infiltrate the hostiles' compound to rescue him and take care of everything else."

"Now, wait a second—" Ed started to protest.

"Eddie," Parker said, "It's a military op. It's _way_ out of our jurisdiction."

"Ah, hell," Ed cursed, slapping the table. He wouldn't give up though, and asked the General, "You're sure you know where Sam is?"

"They're holding him inside an old building close to Scarborough Bluffs Sailing Club. My team is already at location, preparing to enter at first sign," Braddock replied, and immediately winced. Too late he realized Ed's true intention.

"Scarborough. That's within _our_ jurisdiction." Ed smirked. He turned to Parker. "We have a hostage situation here, Boss. It's a hot call."

The Sergeant grinned. "Indeed it is."

Braddock senior rolled his eyes and groaned out loud.

"Fine!" he said. "Your team and mine shall joint task force, Sergeant Parker. Just remember that this is _my_ op, highly classified. Many lives are at stake. We can't afford to have this mission compromised before it even begins. Anything I say goes, agreed?"

Parker shared looks with each member of his team before he grudgingly nodded. "Agreed."

"Good. Let's get moving."

* * *

Hours had gone by. Sam was quickly losing his mind from listening to the deafening noise being forced-feed into his ears. His exposed eyeballs felt so dried and brittle he thought they were about to fall off any seconds. He was hurting, he was freezing, and he was completely drained. All in all, he had reached his ultimate breaking point.

He was close to screaming when the door finally opened and Ross walked in with his men. Behind them followed an older man. Sam jerked, for he recognized who that man was.

They yanked the headphone from around Sam's head. The earsplitting sound disappeared all so sudden that he reeled in his seat, trying to recover his equilibrium.

The older guy looked down at their bound captive. "Hello, Sammy."

Sam gulped, finding it hard to speak. "General Morrell. I didn't expect to see you here."

"You're surprised?" Morrell chuckled. "Well, don't be."

"You are the reason that Matt Walsh is dead. Truly dead."

"He was a soldier, Sammy. A collateral damage. Soldiers die every day."

"He was one of your men!" Sam shouted. "You were his direct C.O. and you're my Dad's best friend. How could you betray him like this?"

The General may be old, but he was still a strong man. The punch he threw at Sam's face had enough force to topple over the chair backwards. The men quickly pulled the chair upright while Sam sat there with blood pouring down his lips.

"Why…why are you doing this?" Sam asked in a broken voice. "What's in there for you?"

"I don't care to discuss this with you, Sammy," the General snapped back. "I heard you only wanted to talk to me. So talk. Give me the passcodes."

Sam scoffed. "If you think that I will give up the codes to you after all that you've done, you're mad!"

"We don't have time for this," said Morrell, shaking his head in exasperation. He turned to Ross. "You did everything to make him spill it?"

"We did. Look at him now, Sir. We've tortured him half to death but still he persevered. You have any other brilliant ideas, I'm willing to listen."

"Just like his old man," Morrell muttered, "Stubborn to the core of his being."

Looking around the room, the General's eyes fell onto the other chair. He told his men to break one of its thin legs. They immediately obeyed, and a short while later presented him with the broken length of wood.

Morrell let Sam see the ragged edges of the chair leg. "Unless you speak now, I'm going to jam this thing up your ass until it comes out of your throat. So what would it be? Are you going to give us the passcodes, or do you prefer to suffer a violent slow death? You choose, Braddock."

Sam knew real fear then. He realized that it was time he ended this charade. Pressing himself against the back of his chair, he beseechingly said, "General…please…"

"Open his legs wider," Morrell ordered.

Sam yelped when the men grabbed his thighs and spread them further apart. He was raised slightly from his seat, to give Morrell easy access to impale him with the wood.

"No, stop! Okay, I'll tell you. You don't have to do this. Please don't do this," Sam started to beg, tears of shame running down his face.

Morell smiled and told his men to let Sam go. "Good, Sammy. What are the passcodes?"

Ross had left and hurried back inside with the laptop. As Sam stuttered the twelve digits of the passcode numbers, Ross made the entry into the command box. Almost immediately, the screen came to life to feature the neat rows of the coordinates and activation codes.

With that knowledge in his grasp, General Morrell now had a deadly weapon that could annihilate an entire small country.

* * *

From inside a stationary van half a mile away, 'Brainy' Brian, the tech genius from General Braddock's secret squad, made the announcement, "It's affirmative. The signal is on. I repeat, the signal is on!"

Already clad in full assault gear, Braddock senior barked into his com link, "You heard him. That's our cue to move in. Go, go, go!"

With sharp precision moves, the joint task forces of the military and the SRUs left their concealed positions to raid the target building.

Zero hour.

* * *

General Morrell clapped his hands once, relishing his delight at seeing the codes splayed across the screen. He turned to Ross, "Our job is done here. Let's go. The jet is leaving within an hour."

"What about him?" asked Ross, nudging his chin towards Sam.

"He's not needed anymore. Kill him."

"With great pleasure."

Ross took out his gun and was about to raise it to Sam's head when Morrell exclaimed in anger, "What the fuck?"

Whirling around, Ross found the General stood glaring at the laptop. Across the screen, the numbers were quickly blinking out, one by one. The coordinates and the activation codes to the nuclear warhead were disappearing right before their eyes.

"It's gone," Morrell whispered soon afterwards, his head shaking in disbelief as he stared at the blank screen. "They are all gone."

Ross rounded on Sam and shouted, "What the hell did you do?"

Then, and only then, Sam allowed himself to smile. "Virus."

Pale and shaken, Morrell gaped in horror at Sam. "Son of a bitch. Operation Virus. This is Braddock's doing."

"What? _He _did this?"

"Him and his father. They are both on this. They have been setting up a trap the whole time. They tricked us!"

Ross blinked, starting to grow unnerved by Sam's continuous smile of triumph. "The passcodes he just gave us are a fake?"

"The passcodes are genuine, but they are not for the codes that we want. They are for the signal. _His_ signal. His rescuers are heading for us right as we speak."

Ross began to panic. "What should we do, Sir? What's the plan now?"

Without bothering to answer, General Morrell turned on his heels and ran out of the room, leaving Ross and his men totally undecided on what to do next.

"Don't even bother following him, Ross. There'll be no escape for him and for you, all of you. You're gonna die."

Ross' eyes drew to a slit, "Not before I kill you first."

He then raised his gun and pressed its nose against Sam's temple.

**TBC…**

* * *

**Why are you all still reading this? I told you not to read it. Oh, well. Looks like I must stop torturing Sam too much.  
**

**Next, the finale. Coming soon!  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**And now, for the finale...**

* * *

"Nobody move! Get down! Get down! On your knees, hands behind your head!"

Men with assault rifles suddenly burst into the room, General Braddock prominently at the lead. Officer Ed Lane was just one step behind him. Ross' two men were quickly swarmed by the tactical squad before they could even draw their weapons. In seconds, they were restrained and dragged away.

Across the room however, Ross stood unmoving with a gun pointed straight at his captive's head.

Ed was horrified to see his teammate's awful condition. Naked and bound to a chair, Sam's pale face was bruised and bloodied, his eyes taped wide open. It took him some effort, but Ed managed not to lose his cool. He followed General Braddock's example, who appeared calm and compose as he spoke to the man holding his only son at gunpoint.

"Drop your weapon, Ross," Braddock senior was quietly saying. "Slowly, do it now."

"You knew it was me all along," Ross said through gritted teeth. He had a grabbed fistful of Sam's hair, keeping his captive completely immobile. "You deliberately made me thought you entrusted me with the codes, so that you can flush out Morrell. You _used_ me. You used your son!"

"Yes, I did all that. It's done. It's over. So surrender yourself and let Sam go."

"Or what? You're gonna shoot me?"

"Sir, please do as he says," Ed said, keeping a finger firmly on the trigger of his MP5. "You really don't want us to shoot you."

"Shoot me, I don't care!" Ross shouted, quickly losing it. The feeling of being cornered could do that to a man who used to think he could escape with anything. He yanked Sam back, pressing the muzzle of his gun firmly against the other young man's temple. "Kill me, and you kill him too."

Both Ed and the General narrowed their eyes as they considered a target shot that would not endanger Sam in the process. But the margin was too narrow. Shooting Ross could cause a reflexive jerk in the subject's hand that would squeeze the trigger, letting lose a wild bullet that would certainly hit Sam. The only way to end this was to talk Ross down.

So Sam took matters into his own hands.

"Hey, Ross," he said.

"What?" snapped the other man.

Sam smirked in response. "Look up."

With Ross' current state of mind, he was too irrational to even think straight. He instinctively raised his gaze upwards, but of course there was nothing there for him to see except for the dusty ceiling. In doing so, his aim shifted slightly to one side. And that gave Ed and General Braddock the opening they had been waiting for. In a space of half a second, two bullets cut through the air and lodged into Ross' forehead, flinging him backwards before he crashed to the floor.

Their guns still smoking, Ed and the General ran to Sam's side.

"Hold still, Sammy. I'll get these things off," said Braddock senior as he held Sam's face and with great care peeled off the cellophane tapes from his eyelids. Then he gently stroked his fingers over his son's eyes. "Now shut your eyes. Keep them that way for as long as you need and don't worry about a thing. We're here to take care of things."

Ed was already attacking the bindings around Sam's ankles and wrists with his knife. The moment he was freed, Sam slumped forward and fell into his father's waiting arms.

"I got you, Sammy. I got you," soothed the General, hugging his son tight. "You did real good. It's over. It's all over…"

Ed watched with a growing lump in his throat as the father continued to rock his trembling son in his embrace. The General's eyes were suspiciously moist, but he was smiling back at Ed.

"Nice shot, Mr. Lane," Braddock senior said, indicating Ross' dead body which was being removed by the men from the General's tactical squad.

Ed sent him a returning grin. "Likewise, General."

"Ed?" Sam finally spoke, his voice a little shaky. "What are you doing here?"

"Saving my little brother."

Slowly, Sam opened his reddened eyes and stared at his team leader. With a small smile, he said, "Sorry I kicked your butt."

"Remind me not to get on your bad side again, Samo." Ed just laughed. He then grew sober, saying, "You're one hell of a man, Braddock. Both of you."

The Braddocks were tough guys for sure, but they still had weak points. One of them was receiving compliments. They clearly looked uncomfortable at the praise. The General squirmed, while Sam grimaced and closed back his eyes.

"Don't tell me the entire team is also here," he muttered.

"Tough luck, Sam. We're all here."

"Jules?"

"She has taken a sniper perch outside," was Ed's tongue-in-cheek reply. "Beware. I think she's going to shoot your ass the second she sees you. She's _that_ mad."

"Ed?"

"Yeah?"

Sam hesitated before saying, "She can't see me like this. Don't let her see me in this state."

Sharing a look with the General, Ed then gave Sam's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I'll go find some clothes for you, buddy. Hang on, I'll be right back."

Sam muttered his thanks and leaned further into his father's warm embrace as he continued to shake uncontrollably. After hours of brutal abuse, his body was slowly giving in into shock. And yet he fought it with whatever remaining willpower he still had. The General hurriedly ordered his men to bring in the EMT.

"It's Morrell, Dad. He's behind all this," Sam quietly said next, anxious by his father's reaction.

"Yes, I know. We caught him trying to make a run for it." The General's features grew bleak. "Damn. My own best friend. I can't believe it."

"I'm sorry."

Braddock senior had noticed the broken piece of chair leg lying nearby. There was no trace of blood on it, but still he checked Sam all over.

"Not as sorry as I am, Sammy," the father then said with a weary sigh of relief, gathering his son protectively close. "Not as sorry as I am."

* * *

"Look, I don't need hospital," Sam protested when he was being led out of the building a short while later. He was now clad in his own jeans which Ed had found in one of the rooms inside. A blanket was wrapped around his shoulders. He was barefoot, though. No one knew what had happened to his shoes.

"You need to get yourself a full checkup," Ed berated his teammate, holding him upright as they walked at slow pace to accommodate Sam's injuries.

"The medics have already checked me up. I'm fine!"

On his other side, the General rolled his eyes and muttered, "God save me from thickheaded stubborn fools."

"How did you think I get to be such a thickheaded stubborn fool?" Sam shot back. "It's in the genes!"

Ed shook his head. "Yeah. Sure, Sam. Obviously you're getting better."

"Bite me." Sam shrugged off their supporting arms. "See? I can stand on my own, so I _don't_ need to go to the hospital."

Jules suddenly appeared out of nowhere to stand right in his path, causing him to stumble to a halt. Behind her stood Parker and Spike and Raf. They didn't seem all that happy to see him, though. Jules, especially. She looked as if someone had slaughtered her cat.

She looked as if _Sam_ had slaughtered her cat.

Swallowing hard, he worked his mouth to function properly. "Um, Jules…"

Without warning, Jules swung her arm and socked him in the jaw.

Sam dropped like a stone to the ground. Except for the collective gasps around them, there was no other sound as Jules stood glaring at her boyfriend lying sprawled at her feet.

"Jules!" Parker finally broke the silence with a cry of shock. "What the—"

"Have you lost your mind?" Ed also cried out. He reached to help Sam but General Braddock yanked him back.

"No, leave them be," the General said, grinning. "This should be very interesting."

"That's for calling me a bitch," Jules hissed down at Sam. "Well, Braddock? Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

Sam blinked and shook his head, thoroughly stunned by her action.

When she realized that he had real troubles getting up, Jules' face crumpled and she quickly knelt down by his side. "Oh, Sam…"

"Jules, I'm—"

"No, you don't have say you're sorry. I know you are." She stroked his bruised and bloodied face. "Poor baby. It must be so awful for you. How badly are you hurt?"

"I'll live."

Sam savored her tender touch until she leapt to her feet and triumphantly announced, "Okay, he's down. You can take him to the hospital now."

As Sam groaned out loud, his team broke into laughter.

"Here's a lesson for today, Sam. Don't mess with a sexy sniper chick," advised Sergeant Parker with a chuckle as he and Ed helped him back to his feet.

General Braddock's eyes were twinkling with mirth when he told Jules, "That's a great left hook. You box in your free time?"

"Nope. I have four brothers."

He whistled. "Sam has no idea what he has gotten himself into."

She simply grinned in return and went to follow the small procession heading towards the ambulance.

* * *

The next day, someone knocked the door to Sam's apartment. Jules put down the dustpan and went to answer it. She was slightly surprised to see General Braddock standing right outside.

"General, hello," she greeted with a smile.

"Hello, Jules. How are you?"

"I'm good, sir, as always," was her reply. "We noticed several armed military guards in the lobby downstairs when we came back from the hospital this morning. That's your doing?"

"Yes."

"Is that really necessary? I mean, it's all over, right? Sam is now safe."

The General nodded with a genial smile. "It's just precaution, Jules. We can't be too careful. Only for a couple more days, just in case."

She nodded in understanding.

"So," he said, raising his eyebrows. "May I come in?"

"Oh, yes, of course!" She blushed, stepping aside to let him walk through. "Sorry."

Braddock senior looked around him with great interest. "Nice place Sam has here."

"Yeah, but it's still a bit messy. Sam's abductors trashed this place real good the night before. I was straightening things up when you came."

"Need a hand?"

"Thanks, but it's under control," she declined and went to retrieve the dustpan. "Go ahead and look on Sam. He's sleeping, though. Has been since we arrived home."

"How's he doing?"

She grew quiet for a moment. "I think he's going to be fine, considering what he has been through. I've never known anyone so strong, so resilient. He truly amazes me."

Braddock gave her a soft gaze. "You're good for him, Jules."

"Yeah, I guess so." Again she blushed, and concentrated hard on her dusting and wiping.

Grinning to see her so flustered, the General turned and headed for the bedroom. He found his son in bed, lying in a fetal position with the covers up to his ears. Sam was frowning in his sleep.

Braddock senior carefully sat down on the edge of the bed, but the slight shift of the mattress was enough to alarm the sleeping young man. Sam bolted upright with a raised fist.

He looked wildly about before he noticed his father sitting there. "Dad?"

"Hey, Sammy. Sorry I startled you."

Sam emitted a weak smile as he lay back down. "That's alright."

"Bad dreams?"

"Yeah, kinda."

"Want to talk about it?"

Sam hesitated, before he gave his father a sheepish grin. "What? You're a shrink now?"

"I'm just saying. If you need to talk…"

"Dad, I'm fine. Really."

"Okay, if you say so." The General shrugged. He then dug through the pocket of his jacket and took out a thin rectangular box encased in black velvet. "Listen, I came by to give you this."

Puzzled, Sam accepted the box and flipped it open. His frown instantly vanished the moment he saw what was inside.

"The Star of Military Valor!" Sam exclaimed and quickly sat up, his eyes widening in shock. He recognized the silver-gilt compass star Celeste with a maple leaf in each angle. A roundel at the center bore a gold maple leaf on a red enamel background. It was the nation's second highest award for military valor, presented to the most valiant of the armed forces. *****

Sam's mouth was hanging open. "H…how…?"

"It was discreetly awarded to me years ago. It's for the first Operation Virus that I took part when you weren't even born. "

Sam gaped at his father in awe. "But your name is not in the list of recipients."

"That's how classified that mission was," replied the General with a benign smile. "I can relate to what you've gone through, Sammy, because I've been there. I've endured almost the same thing. The sacrifice that you made, all your sufferings, it saved countless of lives. That's why I want you to have this, for the great valor and nobility that you've shown. You deserve it."

"Oh, Dad…" Sam was so overwhelmed by his father's touching gesture he completely lost his ability to construct a full sentence.

Chuckling, General Braddock ruffled his son's hair and rose to his feet. "Get some rest, Sammy."

Stunned, Sam could only nod. He was still staring at the medallion even after his father was long gone.

When Jules came in to check on him later, she found Sam peacefully asleep with the medallion hugged close to his chest. Smiling tenderly, Jules pulled the covers over his bare shoulder and kissed his brow.

"Sleep well, my hero."

**THE END**

_*** **Source : Wikipedia._**  
**

* * *

**Yep. That's the end of it. Hopefully, you all like it (I knew some of you Sam-whump fans enjoy it a lot more than most. He he). Frankly speaking, it's one of the most complicated fics I've ever done. So I'm sorry if I didn't get some of the facts straight. Even the torture scenes give me some hard times to construct. You don't how much I sweat over the right words. LOL!**

**Thank you all for reading, and I also appreciate those who spent time to review. Your comments inspire me to continue writing. Hopefully, you won't hear the last of me. **

**See you next time, my fellow Flashpoint fans!**

**Adromir has left the building!^_^**


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